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"PUFFING BILLY" AND THE PRIZE "ROCKET."
[Illustration: GEORGE STEPHENSON.]
"PUFFING BILLY" AND THE PRIZE "ROCKET;"
OR,
THE STORY OF THE STEPHENSONS AND OUR RAILWAYS.
By Mrs. H. C. KNIGHT.
LONDON:
S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO., 9, PATERNOSTER ROW.
Geo. Watson & Co., Printers, 28, Charles Street, Farringdon Road,
London, E.C.
PREFACE.
A brief book for the boys. God gives you work to do in the world. He
gives you honourable work. There is much done that is mean and
dishonourable. Depend upon it, _that_ is not His. In the beginning of
your work, character grows _out_ of it; as you go on, your character
goes _into_ it. Therefore the Bible declares that "God, without
respect of persons, judgeth according to every man's work." We judge
in the same way. This little book will show you how much the practice
of the virtues--the humbler virtues--has to do with making good work.
A superior article cannot be produced without them.
But keep ever in mind that these virtues, however useful and important
for your work in this world, have no _saving_ power in them; they form
no plea for the favour of God; the key which unlocks the door of
heaven is not found among them. Like the young man in the Gospel, you
may have the loveliness of every natural virtue, and yet be lost.
As sinners in the sight of God, you need the atoning blood of the
Redeemer; you need repentance and faith in that blood. Make Jesus
Christ, therefore, the cornerstone of your character; on _that
foundation build_ your character. Cultivate the graces of the Gospel.
Baptize the virtues with your Saviour's love. A noble Christian
manhood can only be attained by the steady endeavours of a heart fixed
on God, and a hand diligent, and delighting in the work He has given
it to do. H. C. K.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. LIFE AMONG THE COAL-PITS
CHAPTER II. MENDING AND MAKING--
LITTLE BOB
CHAPTER III. WHO BEGAN RAILROADS--
"PUFFING BILLY"
CHAPTER IV. TWO CITIES THAT WANTED TO GET NEAR EACH OTHER--
A NEW FRIEND
CHAPTER V. HUNTING UP HIS OWN WORK--AN ENTERPRISING QUAKER--
WHAT WAS THE RESULT?
CHAPTER VI. THE TWO CITIES TRYING AGAIN--BUGBEARS
CHAPTER VII. GRAPPLING WITH DIFFICULTIES--THE BOG--A PUZZLE--
THE PRIZE OFFER
CHAPTER VIII. ROBERT'S RETURN--A CURIOUS ENCOUNTER--
THE PRIZE ENGINE
CHAPTER IX. OPENING OF THE NEW ROAD--DIFFICULTIES VANISH--
A NEW ERA
CHAPTER I.
LIFE AMONG THE COAL-PITS.
What useful little fellow is this, carrying his father's dinner to him
at the coal-pit? He takes care, also, of his little brothers and
sisters, keeping them clear of the coal-waggons, which run to and fro
before the cottage door. Then he is seen tending a neighbour's cows.
Now he is moulding mud engines, sticking in hemlock sticks for
blowpipes; besides cutting many a good caper, and uttering all sorts
of drolleries for the benefit of other little boys, who, like himself,
swarm round, too poor to go to school, if school there were--but
schools there were none.
The boys call him "Geordie Steve."
A lad is wanted to shut the coal-yard gates after work is over.
Geordie offers his services and gets the post, earning by it twopence
a day. A neighbour hires him to hoe turnips at fourpence. He is
thankful to earn a bit, for his parents are poor, and every little
helps. He sees work ahead, however, more to his taste. What? He longs
to be big enough to go and work at the coal-pits with his father. For
the home of this little fellow, as you already perceive, is in a coal
region. It is in the coal district of Newcastle, in the north-eastern
part of England. You had better find it on the map.
I suppose you never visited a colliery. Coal is found in beds and
veins underground. Deep holes are made, down which the miners go and
dig it out; it is hoisted out by means of steam-engines. These holes
are called shafts. The pitmen have two enemies to encounter down in
the coal-pits--water, and a kind of gas which explodes on touching the
flame of a candle. The water has to be pumped out; and miners are now
provided with a lamp, called a safety-lamp, which is covered with a
fine wire gauze to keep the gas away from the flame.
The coal is brought up from the pit in baskets, loaded on waggons,
running then on tramroads, and sent to the sheds. Tramroads were a
sort of wooden railway. A colliery is a busy and odd-looking spot.
Geordie's family lived in one room--father, mother, four boys, and two
girls--curious quarters, one would think; but working men at that time
had smaller wages and poorer homes than now, for Geordie was born in
1781, in the little village of Wylam, seven miles from Newcastle, and
his full name is George Stephenson.
James, an older brother, is "picker;" and by-and-by George is old
enough to be picker too, going with his father and brother to their
daily tasks like a man. To clear the coal of stones and dross is
their business. There are a number of pits around, and each one has a
name, "Dolly pit," "Water-run pit," and so on.
I do not know how long George was picker, but we next find him driving
a gin-horse at a pit two miles off, across the fields. Away he goes in
the early morning, gladdened all along by many bird songs. George and
the birds are fast friends. He knows where their nests are in the
hedgerows, but he never robs them, and watches over them with fatherly
affection. At home he has tame birds, whose pretty, knowing ways are
the wonder of the neighbourhood. For many years a tame blackbird was
as much one of the family as George himself, coming and going at
pleasure, and roosting at night over his head. Sometimes it spent the
summer in the woods, but was sure to come back with cold weather to
share his care and crumbs through the winter.
George, too, had a famous breed of rabbits; and as for his dog, it
was one of the most accomplished and faithful creatures in the
district. In fact, the boy had an insight into animal nature, as we
shall find he had into other things, that gave him power over it--a
power which he never abused.
George next arose to be assistant fireman with his father, at a
shilling a day. He was fourteen, and so small of his age that he used
to hide when the inspector came round, lest he should be thought too
small for his wages. If small in body, he was large in heart, intent
in all things to _do his best_. And this made his work so well done
that it could not escape the notice of his employers. When he went to
the office on the Saturday night to receive his wages, double pay was
given him, twelve instead of six shillings. George could scarcely
believe in his good luck. When he found it was really no mistake, he
took the money and rushed out of the office, exclaiming, "I am now a
made man for life!"
George rapidly shot ahead of his father, a kind old man who always
stayed as fireman, while his boy climbed one round after another up
the ladder of promotion. At seventeen we find him plugman. What is
that? A plugman has charge of a pumping-engine, and when the water in
the pit is below the suction holes he goes down the shaft and plugs
the tube, in order to make the pump more easily draw. The post
required more skill and knowledge of machinery than any he had filled
before, and George proved himself equal to it.
Indeed he loves his engine as he loves his birds. It is quite a pet
with him. He keeps it in prime order. He takes it to pieces and cleans
it and studies it; pries into the why and wherefore, and is never
satisfied until he understands every spring and cog of the machinery,
and gets the mastery of it. You never find him idling away his time.
In leisure moments he is at his old study, moulding clay engines, and
putting new thoughts into them.
He wished he knew the history of engines, and how they were thought
out at first. Somebody told him about Watt, the father of steam-power,
and that there were books which would satisfy his curiosity. Books!
What good would books do poor George? He cannot read. Not read? No. He
is eighteen, and hardly knows his letters. Few of the colliers could.
They were at that time a rough and generally ignorant set of men,
whose pay-day was a holiday, when their hard-won earnings were
squandered at cock-fights and ale-houses.
If one was found who _did_ read, what a centre of light was he! At
night the men and boys gathered around him, when by the light of his
engine-fire he would give them the news from an old newspaper, or a
scrap of knowledge from some stray magazine, or a wild story from an
odd volume; and on these occasions no one listened with more profound
attention than George.
Oh, it was so wonderful to read, he thought! It was to open the gates
into great fields of knowledge. Read he must. The desire grew upon him
stronger and stronger. In the neighbouring hamlet of Welbottle old
Robin Cowens taught an evening school.
"I'll go," cried George.
"And I too," echoed Tommy Musgrove, a fellow-workman, quite carried
away by George's enthusiasm.
Now they went to Robin's school three evenings a week. I do not know
how it was with Tommy, but old Robin never had a better scholar than
George; indeed, he soon out-learned his master. His schooling cost him
threepence a week, and, poor as it was, put into his hand the two keys
of knowledge, READING and WRITING.
These mastered, he longs to use them. Andrew Robertson opens an
evening school nearer than Welbottle, and Andrew proposes to teach
arithmetic, a branch George is anxious to grapple with next. "And he
took to figurin' wonderful," said Master Andrew, speaking of his new
scholar, who soon left his class-mates far behind. And no wonder.
Every spare moment to George was more precious than gold-dust, and was
used accordingly. When not on duty he sits by his engine and works out
his sums. No beer-shop enticed him to its cups. No cock-fight tempted
him to be its spectator. He hates everything low and vulgar.
Andrew was proud of his pupil, and when George removed to another pit
the old schoolmaster shifted his quarters and followed him. His books
did not damage his interest in business. Was the plugman going to stay
plugman? No. Bill Coe, a friend of his, advanced to a brakeman,
offered to show George all about the machinery. The other workmen
objected. One man stopped the working of the engine when George took
hold of it, "for," he cried angrily, "Stephenson _can't_ brake, and is
too clumsy ever to learn."
A brakeman has charge of an engine for raising coal from a pit. The
speed of the ascending coal, brought up in large hazel-wood baskets,
was regulated by a powerful wooden brake, acting on the rim of the
fly-wheel, which must be stopped just when the baskets reach the
settle-board where they are to be emptied. Brakemen were generally
chosen from experienced engine-men of steady habits; and in spite of
the grumbling of older colliers, envious perhaps of his rise, it was
not long before George learned, and was appointed brakeman at the
"Dolly pit." This was in 1801.
[Illustration: STEPHENSON'S COTTAGE.]